


O Tannanbaum

by sksdwrld



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Banter, Blow Jobs, M/M, Shop!fic, Snark, magical au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-15
Updated: 2013-12-15
Packaged: 2018-01-04 17:36:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1083775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sksdwrld/pseuds/sksdwrld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snark, porn, and Christmas trees.</p>
            </blockquote>





	O Tannanbaum

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BekahRose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BekahRose/gifts).



> For Miss_Bekahrose's prompt, "black Christmas tree"

There weren’t a lot of men who could pull off fur, but Merlin thought that the clerk in the new age bookstore did it quite well. He wasn’t wearing any old fur, of course, but rather a black, fitted suede vest with fur trim around the lapels and the neck. It was quite complimentary to the matte-black button-up shirt that he wore over velveteen leggings tucked into a pair of heavy black boots laced to mid-shin that looked like they could stomp Merlin’s skull in.

Merlin hadn't gotten nearly close enough to tell if the earing that dangled from his left ear was a snake or a dagger, or maybe a cross. But, he was close enough to tell that the clerk's arse was glorious: pert, round and bitable. Merlin grinned to himself momentarily, but as the clerk turned toward him, he panicked, ducking behind a nearby bookshelf. It was no respite. The clerk stalked around the corner and began re-shelving tomes with somewhat of a violent reverence.

"There is a coffee shop next door if you are looking to warm your hands or tap into free wi-fi," He slanted a disdainful gaze at Merlin, blue eyes cold and accusing. "I am certain that we don't have anything for your sort here."

"My sort?" Merlin was affronted and he didn't even know what Cold-Blue Eyes was referring to.

The clerk pressed his lips together and hummed as his eyes flickered over Merlin. "Yes, your sort. We cater to a very specific clientelle. Diviners, witches, wiccans, satanists, herbalists, alchemists, potioneers, seers, fortune tellers, sorcerers, and all types of self-proclaimed practitioners of magic. We don't sell fiction or acclaimed literature. You won't find Kerouac, Ginsberg or Mailer on our shelves. We sell crystals and candles, not magazines. Our jewelry has practical applications, it is not meant to be a quirky accessory."

With growing horror, Merlin realized that he'd been pegged for a hipster rather than the true and rather unfortunate happenstance of shopping at the thrift store out of necessity and not giving a damn about appearances.

Merlin glanced helplessly down at his own skinny-legged jeans and what he supposed could be misconstrued as an ironic t-shirt, with its obnoxious green color and the screen-print of a tyrannosaurus eating a giant mushroom. "I am a self-proclaimed practitioner of magic?"

Damn it. Why did it come out sounding like a question?

The clerk snorted with obvious amusement and brushed past Merlin, continuing to restock books from the dwindling pile in the crook of his arm. "Here," he said, pausing to pull a book out and thrust it in Merlin's general direction.

" _Magick for Beginners?_ " Merlin read aloud.

"A good a place to start as any," the clerk dismissed him with a sniff and an air of superiority.

"I am hardly a novice," Merlin argued, although he knew Gaius would disagree. He shoved the book back into place on the bookshelf and crossed his arms.

"Sure you aren't."

Merlin scowled. "Do you always harass your customers?"

"You haven't bought anything," Blue-Eyes pointed out.

"I had planned to," Merlin asserted. "But perhaps I'll take my business elsewhere."

"By all means..." came another dismissive drawl.

"I bet the owner wouldn't be so happy if he knew you were so rude," Merlin scowled. He was here on an errand for Gaius and hadn't expected the clerk to call his bluff. Now, he had to make ammends and ask for what he'd come for in the first place.

"I am the owner. And I couldn't give a damn."

Merlin fishmouthed. "You're—"

"Mordred, of _Mordred's Books_." The clerk shelved the last book and turned with his arms folded smugly. "Might I kindly request that you either make a purchase or you get out? I have things to do."

"I'm picking up an order." Merlin glared. "For Gaius Noble."

Mordred's smirk faltered and then faded altogether. "You're not...?"

Merlin brushed lint from the lapels of his worn jacket and nodded. "His apprentice."

"Emrys..." Mordred murmured and his eyes flickered over Merlin again. Apparently seeing him in a new light, his smile returned and this time was wolfish. "I seem to have misjudged you."

"If that was your apology," Merlin sighed. "It was distinctly lacking in...apology."

"I make no apologies, only ammends. Would you kindly follow me?" Mordred tipped his head. As Merlin acquiesced, Mordred paused to call attention to a delicate and dark-haired girl behind the counter. "Freya, mind the front while I'm gone. This way, please!"

Merlin ducked through a heavily beaded curtain and found himself at the foot of a stairwell that Mordred was already ascending. "Um, where are we going?"

Mordred tossed an unreadable look over his shoulder. "The tome Gaius requested is invaluable. I wouldn't keep it in the shop in the reach of any fool, Mr. Emrys."

"It's Merlin, actually." Merlin's voice echoed back to him as he climbed.

"Merlin, then," Mordred keyed into the door at the top, swinging it wide open. He stepped through, graciously beckoning Merlin inside. "I welcome you to my home."

"Wait, your home?"

"Humble but comfortable," Mordred's fingers graced Merlin's shoulder as they steered him inside. Shutting the door, he then sought the light switch, a subdued glow from a floor lamp casting just enough light to see in the otherwise darkened flat.

Merlin glanced around, noting the heavy and richly indigo curtains drawn tightly over the windows, an ornate ebony settee with plush grey upholstery and bolsters, and a pair of armed tapestry chairs with patterns in complementary shades of silver and navy. It was his turn to snort. "There is nothing humble about this fucking place."

Mordred laughed. "Welcome to my ostentatious and suitably impressive home."

Merlin gazed around once more and this time, his eyes were drawn to the evergreen in the corner. "Your Christmas tree is black."

"Yes," amusement twinkled in Mordred's eyes, prompting Merlin to look closer. The ornaments were comprised of odd trinkets, cameos, filigree, and skulls. What seemed out of place however, was the dusting of glitter on each branch.

"With sparkles!" Merlin pointed out gleefully, as though that meant something.

Mordred waved his hand magnanimously. "It is a holiday of senseless frivolity, is it not?"

"Sure. If you're a collossal twat," Merlin grinned. "The rest of us are staunchly clinging to tradition and hoping that a few Starbucks gift cards are tossed in our general tradition."

"Well...maybe you'll get lucky this year." Mordred shrugged and peeled himself away from the wall. "Starbucks is swill anyway, compared to a cup of proper tea. Would you like one?"

"What? A cuppa?" Merlin was confused. Only minutes ago, Mordred had been angling to throw him out of the store and now he was acting as if they were good friends. Mordred inclined his head and held his arm out toward the kitchen but Merlin shook his head. "Gaius is waiting."

"Very well, come along." Mordred's next step approximated a flounce and Merlin smiled. Blue-Eyes was mercurial beast.

"This is a bedroom." Merlin said on entering the next door Mordred led him through.

"Your powers of observation are quite astute. I can see why Gaius chose you as his protege after years of hopeless candidates."

"Bitter, are we?" Merlin preened just a little. This Mordred fellow appeared deeply invested in himself, with or without reason was yet to be seen, but the chance to goad him could not be allowed to pass.

"I didn't apply. I grew up in a neo-druidic commune. Magick is the way of life, and while Gaius is renowned for his talents, I have no use for them."

Merlin frowned then, because Gaius's grasp on Magick and the various aspects that accompanied it far surpassed anything he'd ever known. Anyone who had no desire to better themselves in life was not worth Merlin's time, even if their beauty exceeded their ego by the barest hairbreadth. "You're a right wanker, you know?"

"As, I suspect, are you..." Mordred winked and a smile blossomed across his face. As Merlin began to blush, he held up one finger as he crouched. "Now, you'll have to bear with me a minute because this old safe tends to get finicky when it's cold..."

Merlin glanced at what indeed was an ancient-looking iron safe with a dial-combination. Mordred had the top draped with a scarf and decorated with candles and a shallow stone bowl filled with ashes. The pillock didn't even have a devoted space for worship in this flat of useless grandeur. "Your safe doubles as your altar?"

"No," Mordred smile darkened and he struck a match, setting flame to five of the nine wicks before blowing them out with a dramatic flare. "Simple bedroom ambiance. Woe to the poor sods you bring home...is romanticism dead in the hipster counter-culture?"

Merlin swore and turned away. "I don't...I'm not..."

"What, gay?"

"A _hipster_!"

"Well, thank the Gods for that."

"That I'm not a hipster?" Merlin pondered, wandering nearer to the bed; an impressive four-poster with a pile of black and white furs and an obscene amount of decorative pillows.

"That you're gay," Mordred clarified before swearing under his breath. There was a dull thunk as he smacked the side of the safe. "Blasted thing, one more go...there we are."

Merlin pulled up short of running his hand over a particularly soft looking fur and glanced over to find Mordred holding a particularly large but fragile-looking tome and smirking at him. He snorted, "Why's that?"

"Well," Mordred stood and laid the book carefully atop his dresser and then dusted his hands together. "It was going to be exceedingly difficult to make amends with you if you were interested in neither tea nor sex, and what sort of Englishman would you be then?"

Merlin felt a flush begin to creep up then and he barked an uncomfortable laugh. "What makes you think I want that?"

"Oh come off it," Mordred loosened the top buttons of his own shirt, revealing the creamy, white skin of his neck and chest. "You've been staring at me like a piece of meat for the better part of an hour. Wouldn't you like a taste?"

Merlin bit his lips to keep himself from licking them and took another step away from the rapidly advancing and intimidating goth only to find himself crowded between the bedside table and the bed itself. A pelt grazed his hand and he made the mistake of breaking their gaze to look at it.

Mordred's body was suddenly flush against Merlin's, and his cool fingers splayed over Merlin's hand, pushing it into the fur as he seductively purred, "I promise you, it feels absolutely luxurious against your bare skin..."

Swallowing, Merlin forced himself to look at Mordred once more. "You were ready to toss me out on my arse fifteen minutes ago. What changed?"

Mordred lifted his eyebrows. "You really have no idea? What a delightful change of pace. I shan't tell you, lest it go to your head. Suffice it to say that I _know_ of you, Emrys. The spirits whisper your name on the winds, and together, we share a destiny."

Merlin rolled his eyes. "God, do people really buy this tripe?"

"You don't believe in destiny?" Mordred murmured, his lips moving toward Merlin's ear when Merlin turned his head to keep their mouths from meeting.

"I've not been convinced of it yet."

"Well, I'll try my hand then." Mordred put just enough space between them to gauge Merlin's reaction to his next piece. "If you are who you say you are, you'll have the mark."

Merlin knew better than to play into this simple fortune teller's deception and responded, "Oh?"

"The barbed tail..." Mordred drawled.

Merlin sucked in a breath. "The Devil's Mark..." or so his mother had called it in jest.

"No, the _Dragon's_ mark..." Mordred frowned slightly and his hand moved boldly over Merlin's rib cage, then to his biceps. "Is it here? Or perhaps here?"

Merlin, slightly awed, shook his head and tugged down his jeans where they covered his left hip, exposing the mark that had been, purportedly, an angry red at birth and had faded to an attention-grabbing pink since then. The mark itself was a tapering crescent that followed the curve of his hip, lazily trailing off at the bottom and ending with an arrow-shaped cap that, with all of the humor the universe could muster, pointed directly at his bits.

Mordred dropped to his knees to examine it, and stroking his thumb over the barb, breathlessly proclaimed, "It's beautiful. I knew it would be...You see, Merlin? Destiny. Why...it even shows me how best to proceed," Mordred leaned nearer and his soft, dark curls tickled Merlin as he placed a reverent kiss at the base of the tail.

No one had ever paid much mind to the birthmark except in ridicule, and Mordred's lips seemed to send off sparks. Merlin jolted and looked again toward the five candles. Five, in numerology was...God, what was it? His brain seemed addled, and Merlin's body was consumed by lust. Mordred was up to something!

"Sex magick!" Merlin gasped and nudged Mordred with his knee. "Is that your game?"

"All magick is sex magick," Mordred replied with a bemused look. Merlin started to recoil and Mordred bracketed his hands around Merlin's hips. "I swear I'm not using anything more nefarious than my own charm...but I'm glad to hear the effect it's having on you."

"Sod off..." Merlin scowled and half-heartedly kneed Mordred again. It was distracting having someones face that close to ones own nethers, especially when said someone was as good-looking as he was charming, and also prattish.

"Do you really want me to? Or do you want me to see what this little dragon-tail so boldly calls attention to? You can consider it attonement for all my sins against you. I will paint your apology with my tongue...how's that for charm?"

Merlin blinked at Mordred, too taken aback (and honestly, too turned on) to form a proper response.

Mordred planted another kiss on Merlin's birthmark, and then began to trace it with his tongue. "This is the closest you'll ever have me to begging, Merlin. If you tell me no, I promise you I'll stop, and you can be on your merry way. I'll even send you a Starbuck's card and a formal note of apology. Have I underestimated you, Emrys? Is that what you want from me?"

Merlin contemplated it for exactly fifteen nanoseconds before shaking his head. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to have those pretty pink lips wrapped around his cock. He'd be a fool to say no.

Mordred's grin was blinding and he tightened his fingers on Merlin's hips before sucking on the barb of the tail like a Murray's mint. Merlin made a wanton sound that would have embarrassed him except that Mordred seemed to like it. Merlin felt his jeans tugged open and shoved down around his thighs along with his pants.

"Sit down, make yourself comfortable." Mordred patted the mattress.

Merlin was already halfway there without the invitation, and when the silky-softness of the fur graced his bottom, he sank into it with an indulgent groan.

"Sinful, isn't it?" Mordred asked with a dark, knowing smirk. "It makes you wonder if they didn't have it better in some regards, back in the olden days..."

"I dunno, I'm awfully happy not to have to catch my meals..." Merlin replied, wondering if he was just going to sit there with his prick hanging out and making awkward conversation.

"Oh, come now...where's your sense of sportsmanship? God knows I enjoy a game of cat and mouse." Mordred said before dragging his tongue along the underside of Merlin's cock. "And I like to think I'm pretty good at it too."

Merlin's head fell back and he groaned, "So good..."

And then Mordred was really on him, fingers digging into Merlin's thighs as he sucked and bobbed with an enthusiasm borne of practice. Merlin didn't believe in heaven, but if there was one, it was Mordred's mouth. There would be no pillowy clouds, only wet, jungle-heat, a velvet tongue lapping and swirling, and the occasional deliberate scrape of teeth.

The world fell away and there was nothing and no one but the two of them, their energies parting and meeting over and over, but never ebbing, only spiralling higher and higher like condors dancing on the breeze. Merlin's fingers twisted into soft curls and pulled because he could see the crest of the mountaintop; he was nearly there and with a liitle more help he could be —no, he was— tumbling, slipping, spilling over the other side.

Mordred's throat worked around him, swallowing before easing back and resting his cool cheek against the flushed and burning skin of Merlin's upper leg. Merlin couldn't think. He could hardly move, save to flop bonelessly backward. In fact, Merlin wasn't aware of anything until he heard Mordred grunt and felt pinch of teeth on his right inner thigh. "Oi!" Merlin protested and pushed himself back up again.

Now, it was Mordred was was slumped and panting, and Merlin realized that Mordred had taken his own cock in hand to finish the job. "I would have reciprocated..."

"Next time," Mordred bestowed another toothy grin upon him and pushed himself to his feet, going in search of something to wipe his hand on.

"What makes you think there will be a next time?" Merlin asked, forcing himself off the bed that dreams were made of in order to put his clothes to rights.

Mordred's eyes were alight with amusement when he returned. "Please, I supply Gaius with everything he needs. I have no doubt that you'll be back within the week. And besides, we've a shared destiny you know."

Merlin simply smiled and pulled the empty canvas satchel around. From it, he withdrew a folded square of muslin and held it out.

"Am I forgiven?" Mordred asked, placing the book in the center of the cloth and helping to wrap and tuck it into Merlin's bag.

"I suppose," Merlin conceded with a sigh.

"Good." Mordred drew close and pressed his lips to Merlin's, hands curling around Merlin's head to keep him pulling away as he moved his mouth to Merlin's ear. "There are things that Gaius will never tell you about, but I will. There are things I can show you that Gaius doesn't know. Gaius will train you well, but it is I who will reveal your true potential..."

Merlin jerked away, certain that if Gaius -who was an expert- chose to keep something from Merlin, it was with good reason. "I should go," he said, backing out of the bedroom and toward the door.

"I should thank you for a lovely time..." Mordred smirked and bowed slightly as Merlin wrenched open the door and fled down the stairs and through the beads, inclined now to believe that Mordred was the devil, himself and Merlin had just sold his soul.

He ran all the way back to Gaius' workshop, crashing through the door like a wild beast.

"Merlin, by the Gods, what's gotten into you?" Gaius demanded with an arched brow.

Merlin stammered breathlessly about the coffee shop and running late, unpacking Gaius' book and thrusting it at him without further pomp and circumstance.

"Ah," Gaius said knowingly and settled heavily down on his bench. "You must have met Mordred then."

"Of course. Took me to fetch your book," Merlin wheezed, pinching the cramp in his side.

Gaius chuckled and shook his head. "I should have warned you...I've lost more errand boys to Mordred's wayward charms..."

"He said we had a shared destiny..." Merlin panted.

"And you fell for it?" Gaius snorted in disbelief.

"He knew about my birthmark, Gaius. He said that he could teach me things you couldn't..."

"I don't doubt it," Gaius chuckled. "I'm no spring chicken, you know, and the escapades you young men get up to these days boggles my mind..."

"Gaius!" Merlin protested, horrified to think that his mentor had known what he'd been up to all along. "But what of the mark? My _Dragon's Mark_?"

"Bah! That irregular strawberry mark on your hip? Mordred is a bit of a clairvoyant but a master storyteller. I hate to say it, but you've been had, my boy."

Merlin groaned and covered his face with his hand. He couldn't believe how foolish he'd been. He was going to beg off any future assignments to Mordred's shop.

"Merlin..." Gaius said after a minute. "He didn't give you a discount by chance, did he?"

The End


End file.
